


The Lucky People (幸運な人)

by TheEternalEmpress



Series: Complicated Generation of Miracles [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Character Study, Child Abandonment, Family Drama, Financial Issues, Gen, Headcanon, If You Squint - Freeform, Major Illness, Philosophy, Team Bonding, slight MidoKuro - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEternalEmpress/pseuds/TheEternalEmpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he followed Oha-Asa, fate gave him what he needed, and he was content. However, there were two times he defied Oha-Asa– one, was when he bought a basketball, and two, when he talked to the silent Aquarius – for reasons he could not understand. Midorima-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lucky People (幸運な人)

**Author's Note:**

> ello guys! I'm sort of back in the KnB fandom! XD University is really hard, but I'm surviving XD However, I also thank the hard piles of work that Uni has dumped on me because one of my projects is to write this~
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this one-shot. It's really deep, and more of a philosophical response to existentialism than a headcanon, but full of Mido-headcanons nonetheless. And because I am Kuroko harem shipper, I have to add a dash of Kuroko there, right? So, without further ado, here it is :3
> 
> Warning: Grammatical mistakes, and an atheistic tone for the sake of plot. Supposed to be a sequel to The Pretty Things (but this can still be read without reading The Pretty Things), but there's a continuity error in The Pretty Things.

A self-proclaimed psychic once told his mother, 'He's born with the grace of _kami-sama_!' And as much as the self-proclaimed psychic sounded lunatic, his mother believed her. Who wouldn't want to? A boy born with the grace of the gods – wouldn't that be the perfect kind of son to brag about to friends?

Maybe, as he slept in his mother's womb, he also took the words of the crazy psychic to heart; as much as it sounded so illogical, he wanted to believe it, too.

He wanted to be born lucky.

But, of course, he wasn't.

Poor newly-born Midorima Shintarou, wrapped in the old, soft, lavender sheets, bright-eyed and red-faced, was left by his father for greener pastures in Europe. It seemed strangely but humorously ironic, given that Midorima was born with green hair and his father left his family for _greener_ pastures, but Midorima was no shamrock. In a family where the only income provider left for work and never came back, a baby was the source of most of the financial worries.

And his mother was also sickly, too.

As the infant Midorima was laid next to his mother's side, awake but sleepy after a suckling, his grandmother approached his mother and asked "Do you want to keep this baby?"

His mother paused to look at her child. With a silent determination, she looked back at her grandmother and nodded. "Yes." She said. "I can do take care of him by myself."

His grandmother looked at her for a moment, to see any glint or spark of hesitation, before she sighed and laid her hand on her daughter's. "You don't have to do it alone," she said. "As your mother, I am always here for you."

He might not understand this yet, but once he grows, he will remember this conversation.

He will also hate his father when he grows up.

But, that will be years later, after his family had moved to Tokyo, to where his grandmother currently lives. That night, he just slept soundly, unaware that his father was not in Japan any longer. Tomorrow, he will wake up and realize that he does not have a father anymore.

Tomorrow, he will also realize that he was not born lucky – the self-proclaimed psychic was wrong.

And that was a lesson he'll take to heart when he grows up.

* * *

His grandmother was very religious. Every day, she would walk all the way to the shrine to pray and ask for blessings. Sometimes, she will also leave food or drinks as offerings. In desperate times, she will kneel in front of her ancestors' altar and ask what she did wrong.

These seemed to be the most logical actions if your only daughter was fighting for her life at the hospital.

The five-year old Midorima Shintarou has not grasped the complex system of medicinal healing or concept of a respiratory disease, but he, in a very young age, has already understood that praying just might save his mother's life.

Because, apparently, praying is like asking your parents for lunch money. But, in this case, you're asking the gods for more luck. Luck that can save your mother.

So, Midorima did. Every single day, he prayed with his grandmother, asking the luck he was not born with, luck they were not bestowed with.

It was strangely but also humorously ironic that a family of green-haired people was not lucky. That fact infuriated Midorima a little bit, but he didn't show it because the gods might not bestow them luck.

Yes, that was how superstitious he was (supposed to be). And for a good reason.

Compared to gifted, red-haired people with incredibly huge egos and superior complexities, his family was the lower end of the middle class. His grandmother owned a bakery – their only source of income – that catered to office workers who didn't have time to make their own lunch and students who forgot to eat breakfast. It was small, but generated enough income to support their daily necessities and to send Midorima in a really good elementary school. At the same time, it was a little, fragile business. It can't support large financial expenses like hospital bills or trips to amusement parks. So, when his mother suddenly collapsed during work and was diagnosed with a respiratory disease Midorima was not familiar with, the business was thrown out of whack.

In extension, their lives were also thrown in the spiral of chaos.

With not enough money to support his mother's hospital bills (if they didn't pay, the doctor might refuse them), medicinal expenses, daily necessities and Midorima's education, and the possibility that Midorima's mother might die today, where can they go for support? To _kami-sama_ , of course!

It's perfectly logical to pray to the very being who forsook them in the first place, right?

_Right_?

After a whole day of waiting, praying and more _waiting_ – what else can they do, but watch as his mother fight to stay alive? – His mother's condition stabilized that night. His grandmother was overjoyed and went to a nearby shrine to pray and thank the gods for sparing his mother.

Midorima did not join her. He was too worried that the gods might just be joking with them and take his mother's life when they're both gone.

Instead, he stayed in the room with his mother, who kept breathing – a little too deep and a little too labored, but breathing, nonetheless – to make sure that she sleeps soundly the whole night. Feeling a little bored (and a little queasy for anticipating something that he cannot expect), he decided to turn on the TV and watch whatever there was still broadcasted.

The lady in a repeated TV broadcast said that today's lucky color was blue.

He was wearing a blue sweater that day.

* * *

' _The lady in the television said the lucky color was blue that day. The green-haired child was wearing a blue sweater, and his mother's condition improved_.'

In adult logic, these are only coincidental events that were pieced by child's logic to make sense of a surprising twist in reality. In child's logic, it was no brainer – wearing a garment of a lucky color had saved his mother's life!

Midorima believed in the child's logic. Of course, he was a child.

And five-years old, no less.

Following the events that transpired a week ago, Midorima Shintarou had kept a close eye on the lady on TV. He felt like he was on to something, like Detective Conan on the pursuit of the episode's killer. In his heart, somehow, he knew that lady had given a clue – an instruction – as to get enough amount of luck to save his mother's life. It was not _kami-sama_ who saved his mother; it was the lady's premonition of the lucky color, which Midorima was coincidentally wearing.

No, he was not bitter. He was not bitter that _kami-sama_ made things more difficult for them by not giving him the luck he needed, his family needed, and rather giving his mother a respiratory disease and his grandmother more bills to pay. Nope, he was definitely _not_ bitter.

Besides, this lady was really good in fortune telling. Way more than a silent being.

Her name was Oha-Asa, a new (and aspiring) fortune teller in an old TV news network. She was a little weird, a little awkward, but she was an expert on horoscopes and lucky items. She knew exactly what was in store for each horoscope, and she always prescribed what she calls 'lucky items' to increase your luck, or if you fall on the Low 6 horoscopes of the day, to save you from bad luck.

She calls the blueprint of human existence – the direction of an individual's path of life – as fate. It was the map that humans were supposed to follow in life. Without this map, humans will be lost.

Without this blueprint, Midorima may have lost his mother earlier on.

He trembled at the idea.

"Oh my! Did you make this?" His mother gasped as she fiddled a small doll a size of a key-chain she received from her son one day. It was all made with the spare fabric he found in their house. Midorima called his creation, 'The Blue Man', because the spare fabric he used was his own blue sweater.

His mother doesn't need to know that last part, though.

"Yes," Midorima stuttered. "It's your lucky item of the day."

His mother raised a brow at the last part. "Lucky item?"

"Yes. Your horoscope was placed last. Without that doll, you'll be having bad luck all day"

His mother smiled "Oh…Then, I'm lucky to have a son who would make an effort to counter the bad luck for me!"

She tried patting him on the head, but then she started coughing. Midorima hurriedly placed her breathing mask back, and after a few seconds, she regained her steady breathing. She smiled and weakly placed her hand on top of Midorima's head. The green-haired boy had to lean forward, so his mother's hand can reach his head.

Pale as a ghost, frail as glass; she continued to smile warmly as if her condition was nothing to worry about. She clasped the doll in her left hand and placed that enclosed palm near her heart.

"I'll treasure this, always."

Young Midorima only nodded. Somehow, his glasses began to fog.

His mother didn't die that day – don't worry – but this convinced Midorima that the secret for his mother's life, and by extension, their family's happiness, was to follow fate. Thus, Midorima began watching all of Oha-Asa's shows, listening to her radio broadcasts and saving money for his and his mother's daily lucky items. In desperate times, he'll even call Oha-Asa during her nightly radio broadcasts and ask what he did wrong in his life.

These seemed to be the most logical actions if your only mother was going to fight against death in every single waking day of her life.

* * *

Eight years old and Midorima already had a closet in store for all his used up lucky items. Sometimes, he sells some of his lucky items to his neighbors – so they can get whatever remaining luck in that item – to make space for new ones. His grandmother criticized this behavior, but as long as Midorima pulls the money from his part-time work as a newspaper boy, then, his grandmother had no right to forbid Midorima from buying his lucky item of the day.

As for the lucky items of his mother, he refused to sell them because they might come in handy someday. Midorima's mother makes fun of the green-haired boy's strong belief on fate and Oha-Asa – Midorima lets her…she needs all the medicine (reference from the quote 'laughter is the greatest medicine') she can get – but she keeps the daily lucky items her son buys for her. The only lucky item she won't part, even if it was yesterday's lucky item, was the doll Midorima gave her three years ago.

Midorima wanted to tell her that the doll had already zero luck – it's been _three years_ – but he didn't want to take it away. Other than luck, Midorima also prioritized his mother's happiness.

The green-haired boy feels that his mother is gradually getting better. Her skin was slowly turning back to its original color and the tired look in her eyes is starting to brim with warmth.

"Hope is not lost as long as you believe," Oha-Asa once said. "Stay strong."

And he did. He might've changed a little – he might've became a little bit of a fatalist, might've became a little anti-social, might've been a little cold to others and might've been a little _boring_ – because of his immense fixation on Oha-Asa's premonitions, but hey, it was for his mother.

As long as he followed fate, fate will do wonders for him.

Who needs friends?

* * *

Well, apparently, he does.

But, most of the chatty and interesting people have horoscopes not compatible with his; the people who had compatible horoscopes with his were part of the Low 6 and should be avoided.

Other people were just dumb and couldn't understand his ways.

And he was also dumb to be afraid of not doing anything that Oha-Asa didn't say in her broadcast.

* * *

The first time he didn't follow Oha-Asa's lucky item of the day was when his grandmother bought him a basketball. His lucky item of that day was supposed to be a baseball.

Cue the apocalypse in the distance.

"I can't accept this…" he said, as politely as he can, and as calmly as he can. He has already been imagining 100 ways his life could spiral out of control if he held that big ball of orange bad luck.

His grandmother frowned at him. "Well, it's too bad. I've already paid for it. It costs a fortune, if I may say."

Midorima doesn't want to talk back, but he wanted to ask why his grandmother would buy a basketball – a baseball is way cheaper!

Seeing the reluctance in Midorima's face, his grandmother sighed. "There was one point in time when I was like you – afraid to stray from what has been used to. But, my grandmother made me realize that I couldn't live that way. You could live in a life that is already planned out for you – it will make your life light and safe, but it won't make you happy. You would lose a lot of opportunities, in that way."

The green-haired boy stared at the orange ball and touched it. Then, he looked at his grandmother. "But, Oha-Asa said to bring a baseball, not a basketball…What if – " _what if I won't get lucky today because of this?_

Sensing Midorima's internal struggle, his grandmother only smiled. "If you think that the act of bringing a baseball is the one that gives you good luck, then you're mistaken. Bringing a baseball or a basketball wouldn't even give you two friends. But, the act of playing baseball or basketball will give you friends for a lifetime – now, that's what I call good luck."

Midorima hesitantly picked the orange ball and trusted on his grandmother's words. That day, his classmates were mysteriously sick with allergies (if you call broken noses as allergies), and everyone was too scared to go to the basketball court because of a purple monster (Barney was not _that_ scary, Midorima thought) who was known to terrorize playgrounds.

' _He was alone. He was holding a basketball. Oha-Asa said that he should bring a baseball.'_

In child's logic, Midorima would've run to the nearby store and bought a baseball. It was the basketball's fault he was alone, right? In adult's logic, Midorima would've stayed and dealt with what he has.

Since Midorima was still a child, he would've done the former, right?

Surprisingly, he didn't.

The eight-year old Midorima, for reasons unknown, placed his faith on his grandmother's words, a simply granny, rather than a very powerful and credible psychic in TV. It seems sort of stupid to do that, but he did it, nonetheless. He didn't know why, but he just did.

He just stopped thinking for a second and just trusted.

It was the easiest, yet hardest thing he has ever done in his life.

* * *

Basketball was probably the easiest, yet hardest thing he has ever done in his life.

11-year old Midorima didn't know how many three-pointers he had shot, how he managed to shoot consecutive three-pointers without missing, how he attracted a lot of attention because of that, and how he got suddenly attached to basketball.

Everything that led to this was a blur in Midorima's mind.

He thought of a lot of reasons why he shouldn't be doing this – playing basketball. His lucky items could break if he played such a reckless sport, his time was wasted for playing rather than studying or working, and his fixation on keeping his nails trim and proper was also a little expensive as well. He should also be spending time with his mother, who, after two years of showing a good track of a health record, was rushed to the hospital because symptoms of her disease was showing. Again.

She wasn't as strong as before, or as lucky as before, so Midorima wasn't sure if she can push through.

But –

"Are we not going to go to the shrine to pray for mother?"

"…"

"…?"

"Shintarou?"

"Yes?"

"How do you play basketball?"

"It's…just shoot – "

"No, what I mean is, how do _you_ play basketball?"

"…I…I just do. I just shoot the ball over and over again."

"Have you ever thought about it? How you shoot, why you shoot, if your shots would miss?"

"It's rather distracting for me to do that…And…I trust myself enough not to think about missing."

"I see…"

"…Grandmother, are you alright? Do you want me to go the shrine for you?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but there's no need for us to go to the shrine anymore."

"…Huh?"

"Maybe, it's time for us to trust on my daughter's ability…her will to live," His grandmother smiled. "There's no need for you to quit basketball because you'll be spending a lot of time with her, tomorrow and the days after. When your mother's conditions gets better, we'll all go to the mall together to buy proper basketball shoes for you."

* * *

Wearing a red scarf during the examinations, he was able to pass the entrance test of Teiko, and their scholarship test.

On the first day of school, his lucky item was a phone book. He brought it to school, despite how silly it looks with him.

But it did work wonders for him, since the crowd seemed to have parted for him and never blocked his way.

A senior student spotted him. "Hey, aren't you that guy who bring weird items always?"

Midorima tried to be polite, but years of being made fun of his actions had soured him a bit. "What about it?"

The senior student didn't seem to be offended; in fact, he looked pleased. "Take it easy. I'm just saying that you're _that_ guy who can score consecutive three-pointers without missing. I can't believe how lucky it is for you to come to this school," he said. "Come join the basketball club. It would be a shame to put your talents to waste."

Midorima shifted his glasses, scoffed and signed the registration papers.

He later found out that the senior student's name was Nijimura Shuuzo, and he was the current captain of the team.

He also found out that he was one of the 'lucky' first years who managed to get into the first string.

* * *

Sometimes, he thought that joining the basketball club was a mistake because it led to the second time that he didn't follow Oha-Asa's premonition.

A brash Virgo, a laid-back Libra, a nosy Taurus, and an egoistic Sagittarius – these were the new teammates he had to deal with (Momoi wasn't a player, but she is their manager).

Thankfully, the rude Scorpio rarely went to practice (without getting beat up by their captain). He was the worst and he really didn't want to deal with him.

Eventually, a quiet Aquarius joined their team, courtesy of the brash Virgo.

Oha-Asa said to be wary of Aquariuses that day, because meeting one would lead to…weird events. He would've followed Oha-Asa's promotion if it weren't for the fact that the said Aquarius has amazed him with his extraordinary skill, determination –

"Are you Midorima Shintarou-kun?"

"I really like your three-pointers. You were really amazing."

"I'm very thankful you are part of our team."

"We're not that compatible, but sometimes, I find it easier to be with you than the others."

"Where do you buy your lucky items? …Really? Oha-Asa-san has a store?"

"I really don't believe in horoscopes, but…I really like Oha-Asa. She gives more inspiring quotes than horoscope reminders…to be honest."

"I may not be as good as you, but I'll still try my best. I will be this team's shadow."

– and naivety.

His name was Tetsuya Kuroko.

Then, an annoying Gemini came in and kicked Haizaki out of his place, while Nijimura promoted the not-so-egoistic Sagittarius as captain.

He was promoted vice-captain as a result.

* * *

Midorima doesn't know how to feel about _his_ team, which was also known as _his_ friends.

Everything that led from the transition of being teammates to being close friends was a blur to him.

He thought of a lot of reasons why he shouldn't be doing this – being friends with _them_. His expenses have sextupled now that he has to buy lucky items for his friends, his health and mental sanity has always been constantly threatened by his friends' stupid antics, and he could feel his stress levels topping off the charts because he felt he was the only sane one in the whole bunch.

Even Kuroko's sanity has been infected with Aomine's logic.

And don't get him started with Akashi.

In first glance, they – all of them – didn't seem to be compatible with each other. Their attitudes were too dominant, their personalities were too contrasting, their backgrounds were whole different from each other, and they did not have anything in common besides basketball.

But somehow, they managed to work it out.

If he tried to think about how, or why, they just started becoming friends, Kuroko would laugh at him. The Aquarius was really good in reading body languages and emotions – it freaked Midorima at first, but he had learned to become comfortable with other people.

"I don't know the answer to that," he said. "But, do you have to think about it?"

Pondering on that question, there really was no need to think about it, doesn't he?

They became friends because they were just… _there._

And also, maybe, because he was lucky enough to have friends who liked staying there.

* * *

"Midorima-kun, do you think it was ever a mistake for you to play basketball?"

"…Does it still matter? It's already been done and it's already too far for me to undo it."

The rest of the Generation of Miracles sprawled at the blue, plastic chairs of the hospital. Akashi was making calls to who knows who. It was his birthday yesterday (which is also the reason why his _friends_ knew of his…past), and he was still supposed to ride the highs of his birthday until the end of the week.

He, and the others, weren't supposed to be in the hospital.

The light of the Operation room was still on.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but… I think Midorima-kun should stop following fate in the exact same way as Oha-Asa tells you to do. You'd lose so many opportunities."

Midorima shifted his glasses. "You sound like my grandmother," he paused. "I wonder what she'll say about you, if she was still alive."

Kuroko smiled. "She would've liked me."

"…I know."

"Midorima-kun?"

"Yes?"

"Sometimes, we take risks. The other days, we make mistakes. Most of the time, those risks make us make mistakes. But, either way, it's going to be fine. Taking a risk or making a mistake – there will always be something good that will come out in these things."

A smile. "Why does it feel like that you're speaking from an experience?"

Another smile. "Because we've made a lot mistakes, and yet we're still fine. You should take advice from Aomine-kun."

"Pass. I'd rather follow Kise than that ganguro."

"Whatever you say."

An hour later, the person whom Akashi called had arrived in the hospital. He brought a box and a bouquet of flowers. He gave them to Akashi, who woke the Generation of Miracles. The red-haired captain laid the flowers and the box on the table, in front of Midorima.

"It's a special day, isn't it?" Akashi mused.

"I know." Midorima replied.

The green-haired teen opened the box. Kise lit up a small candle.

"What's her name?" Aomine asked.

"…Shinri."

"Then, Happy Birthday Shinri!" they all shouted as Midorima wrote the kanji characters of Shinri ,真理, on the cake. At the same time, the light of the operating room turned off, and a wail of a child filled the hallway.

Midorima mused on how amusing it would be to tell his younger sister, Shinri, how his friends pedaled his mother to the hospital through a rickshaw, which was parked in the priority parking area.

If only his friends just stayed _there_ longer.

* * *

Their friendship is as strong as it is fragile. Midorima realized that during their 3rd year in middle school.

He also realized that the bond of their friendship was dependent on just 'being there', despite the emotional and unfortunate events that they had shared. It was as if their friendship had never improved or ebbed; it stayed the same while they were all in a constant flux.

So, when one of them stopped 'being there', the whole structure crumbled into pieces of no return.

He also realized he was at loss of what to do.

* * *

As a good friend, Midorima stayed until the whole foundation of friendship – their memories, their moments, their laughter and their tears – fall and crumble into heaps of ash. Momoi stayed, too, although it was painful for him to watch her cry over it. Kise acted like everything was fine, and Murasakibara didn't stay too long.

Aomine and Kuroko were nowhere to be found, because they were the first ones who stopped being there.

Akashi was nowhere to be found, too. Knowing him, losing his friends probably hit him the hardest.

It would've been logical to blame the people who stopped being there for the destruction of their friendship, right? For child's logic, this was probably the most reasonable action to do.

But, Midorima was not a child anymore. Instead of blaming anyone or lingering any further on this heap of ash he once called ' _their_ friendship', he blamed himself for being put into this mess. If he bought that baseball back then, if he hadn't talked to Kuroko back then…then maybe, things would've never turned out this way.

He knew it was illogical for him to think that way, but he was looking for something or someone to blame. It was the only thing he could now.

He plugged his earphones and listened to Oha-Asa.

"There is nothing that can be done," she said, her tone of voice grim and low. She must know what Midorima was going through right now. "We must look on forward."

And he did. He practiced, he graduated and he enrolled in Shuutoku. He never looked back.

But, that doesn't mean he wouldn't miss them.

* * *

Shuutoku was a good school. It has a formidable basketball team. His teammates were kind enough, though he'd appreciate it if they respected the importance of Oha-Asa to him. They were the one who recruited him, after all.

In that same high school team, he met an annoying Scorpio. He was like Kise, but more cunning.

Ah, did he compare his teammates with his teammates back in Teiko?

Anyway, his name was Takao Kazunari. Takao claimed his middle school team went against Teiko and lost. He sounded bitter about it, but now he wants to be Midorima's teammate.

Aren't they already?

"Hey, you like Oha-Asa, don't you?"

Midorima felt that this happened before. "…What about it?"

"Don't you think it's a little bit silly to follow everything she says? I mean, come on! What happened to Nietzsche's 'live dangerously' campaign? You need to loosen up – take risks for a while! You'd lose a lot of opportunities if you keep this way of life, y'know."

The green-haired teen felt an odd sense of déjà vu. And then he remembered. He frowned and pushed the memory away.

"I'm surprised you know Nietzsche." Was the only witty response he could think of that time.

* * *

Most of Kise's texts were annoying. Midorima hated Kise's extreme use of emojis, but now, he would've probably welcomed it.

He regretted ever thinking that way because he received a text from Kise – after months of not seeing each other, at all – which had so many emojis. It annoyed him and made his head hurtBut, when he did decipher the code in Kise's text did he ever realize that he regretted following Oha-Asa that day.

That day when their friendship crumbled to dust.

_I found Kurokocchi, he's at Seirin._ It says.

"Who the heck is 'Kurokocchi'?" Takao exclaimed, as he read Kise's text behind Midorima's back.

Uncharacteristic of Midorima, the green-haired shooter said: "An old friend."

* * *

"Rather than me, shouldn't you talking to Kurokocchi instead?"

A pause. "That's not necessary."

"A B-type like me and an A-type like him have no compatibility."

And yet, despite their incompatibility, Midorima was determined to crush Kuroko's 'naivety' on that day. All for the sake of an old friendship he was trying to forget.

* * *

When his grandmother was on her death bed, she asked Midorima to hear her last reminders.

She knew Midorima shouldn't be the one who would hear her final words – he was a child, he would not understand it yet – but Midorima was a dear grandson of hers. He was no shamrock, but he was the beautiful emerald of the family. He had so much hope, but at the same time, so much fear.

It was partly her fault for scaring Midorima like that.

"Shintarou," she began. "It may seem insensitive of me, but I kept the true location of your father hidden from your mother." Midorima's green eyes widened and his expression contorted into surprise and feint hurt from betrayal. But, she tightened her grip on Midorima's hand, silencing the latter. "It was only yesterday that I talked to him in the phone. He asked me about your welfare, and I asked him if he wanted to come home. He said 'yes'."

She coughed harshly, but she still continued. "I told your mother about this. I asked her if she will give your father a chance. Did you show what she said? She said 'yes'," She paused. "You might think it is naïve of her, but in fact, it is not. She is brave enough to let herself get hurt again and considerate enough to forgive him. She is ready to accept his husband, like a true Yamato Nadeshiko."

"But, he hurt her, he hurt me, he hurt everyone," Midorima muttered. "He is the reason why we've had so many problems! If only he – "

"I know, Shintarou, I know, but he is human, he makes mistakes, he does things he does not mean. But know this: your mother never complained about him or blamed him for the problems we had for the past few years. Have you ever seen your mother pray to our ancestors to bring your father back?"

Midorima paused, before he shook his head.

She smiled. "Because she still feels blessed. Even if he disappeared, even if she has gone through difficult times, she knows that it's not all bad. She sees the positive things around her – even in the things that consistently hurt her," she explained. "You see…everyone in this world is blessed, it's just that we sometimes interpret bad happenings as unfortunate when they are also blessings. All the things you received and the things that happened to you, no matter how fun, how harsh, how beautiful it is or ugly, they are blessings. They helps us become strong, become kinder, become the persons we want to be. They guide us to create the path we want to take, the fate we want to have."

Seeing the confused look on her grandson, she continued to smile. "It is not bad if you want to be lean on a god or on a woman who seems to know your fate; we are just humans who know fear and despair, we also want to feel secure and protected. But remember this: The fate that you have – it's for you to make. Asking god or a psychic woman in TV will lead you to your fate; they are just reminders to help you keeping going in the road. You might get lost, you might forget what you're supposed to be doing, and maybe you'll fail, but it's alright because everything will work in the end, somehow."

"Just don't think… trust in yourself and don't forget to smile. Life is wonderful and this world is beautiful…so…there will never be a reason…for you to be afraid…of what will happen…in the future…"

Remembering these words, Midorima smiled at himself.

All along, it wasn't Kuroko who was naïve. It was him.

On that day, Kuroko was also determined Midorima's naivety. All for the sake of an old friendship he was trying to build back.

Kuroko succeeded. Midorima lost.

* * *

Midorima stood under the rain, to drown his thoughts and to stop thinking.

Today, he is sad; he is disappointed of himself for losing. But, tomorrow, everything will be fine because he has learned something important about himself and his teammate; he had somehow regained the hope that maybe, just maybe, that heaps of ash in Teiko might be once again called ' _their_ friendship' (but now with insurance…and more people).

Tomorrow, the feeling of losing still might hurt; Kise might make fun out of him, but that's okay.

He still feels lucky, anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> So, how was it? XD Also, share your headcanons about Midorima too :3 We love that Oha-Asa megane XD
> 
> This was supposed to be a sequel to The Pretty Things, but if you read both fics, you'll read that there's a continuity error in The Pretty Things, which I will fix later on :3


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